


Ex Astris, Scientia

by TKcloud9



Series: Decoherence [2]
Category: Star Trek: The Next Generation
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Crew of the Starship Enterprise as Family, Domestic Fluff, Ensemble Cast, Fix-It of Sorts, McCoy is older than everybody except god, Picard doesn't actually hate children, Why is the Enterprise-D so big, not a self-insert, where is everyone
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-03-09
Updated: 2021-03-12
Packaged: 2021-03-15 18:35:35
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,257
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29937666
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TKcloud9/pseuds/TKcloud9
Summary: Ex Astris Scientia: From the Stars, Knowledge. You would think so. Except this time around, it's less about science and more about social skills. Second in the Decoherence series. Can be read stand-alone, probably.
Series: Decoherence [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2001460
Comments: 3
Kudos: 7





	1. The Beginning, Again

**Author's Note:**

> Hello! Welcome to Volume 2. I'm still awake so technically it's still Monday for me *shrug induced by Covid-time* Posting will be Mondays and Thursdays, cross-posted with FF.net. Tags may be updated as we go on but I don't want to spoil stuff right off the bat. Hope you enjoy!

She startled awake, hacking up seawater, gulping in air with greedy starved lungs. "Wha-" She spit up more water and couldn't stop coughing. Seaweed draped around her head and she tore it away- couldn't catch her breath- her right leg felt like it was on fire-

There were shouts, noises, the kind of noises that meant "Medical emergency!" There were hands, questions, a firm whack between her shoulder-blades which led to more seawater coughed up-

She saw the brim of a purple hat just before her eyes rolled back in her head.

-/\\-

Elle opened her eyes. Bland ceiling, harsh lighting on sensitive eyeballs. Sickbay. She closed her eyes again, feeling distinctly crusty. Like, bathed in saltwater and dried out, kind of crusty around the edges.

She groaned, attracting the attention of someone in blue. "Bones, Bones you were right, I'm sorry, I'm never leaving the ship ever again unless its Earth and a mud puddle," she said, throwing her arm over her eyes.

"Doctor she's awake," the nurse said.

Elle struggled to sit up. "Wait, where's everyone else? Are they okay? Where's the captain?" Had anyone else fallen in the water after the creature surfaced? "Where's Bones?"

A woman with red hair bustled into the private room, blue lab coat flapping. She broke into a relieved smile. "Oh good, you're awake. How's your leg feel?"

Elle stared at the concerned face of Dr. Beverly Crusher and felt the distinct urge to repeat the Russian phrase Chekov had inadvertently taught her. _Not again, not again, not again-_ She swallowed down the panic and the colorful metaphor and settled for, "Um."

"Your leg," Dr. Crusher prompted gently. "How does it feel?"

Elle stared down at her right leg which was wrapped in bandages around the thigh. She poked at it curiously. "Fine?"

"You had a pretty big gash in it," Dr. Crusher said, brow wrinkling in concern. "With traces of a neurotoxin produced by a creature on Zerus III."

Elle gaped. "The whale?"

"Yes... can you tell me how you got it?"

"I was just drowning on Zerus III," Elle said, rubbing her sore throat. She sat up, shrugging off the nurse's help, and coughed into her elbow. "Ugh. Can I, juice?"

"Small sips," Dr. Crusher cautioned, helping Elle's shaky hands hold the juice. "You'll be shaky for a while, as your system flushes the neurotoxins out. Take it easy."

Elle focused on sipping the juice. One sip at a time. She took a deep breath and winced. "I drowned," she said again. She looked up. "Where am I?"

"You're on the Enterprise, sweetheart."

Elle winced. "Enterprise-D?"

"Yes." Dr. Crusher squeezed her arm gently. "The captain wants to talk to you if you feel up for it."

Elle nodded and licked at her dry lips.

The door slid open and two people came in. "This is Captain Jean-Luc Picard, and Counselor Deanna Troi," Dr. Crusher said.

Captain Picard was bald and full of aplomb in person. He had a sense of gravitas fit for a Greek orator. "What's your name?" he asked, not unkindly.

Elle straightened at the tone of authority. "Eleanor Wilcott, sir. You can call me Elle."

"You're from Zerus III?" Counselor Troi asked curiously.

"Um, no. I, uh, sorry, how did I get here?" There was definitely still water in her ears. Elle resisted the urge to shake her head.

"You appeared in our forward lounge, half-dead, covered in seaweed and coughing up seawater. We beamed you directly to Sickbay and you've been out for a couple of hours while we fixed your leg and aspirated the seawater."

Elle nodded slowly, rubbing at her sore chest. "But I'm okay now, right?"

"I prescribe a shower and a hot meal and you'll be all set," Dr. Crusher said, giving her a motherly smile.

"Thank you, Doctor Crusher," Elle said, and ignored the glance the two women shared.

"Do you know how you got here?" Picard asked. "It's quite a leap from Zerus III to halfway across the quadrant."

Elle bit her lip as she stared at the trio of Star Fleet officers. Their uniforms were so different. Not as bright. The doctor's lab coat was the same, though, as Bones'. Did it also have candies tucked in the right-hand pocket? Was that a doctor thing that spanned all time?

"Elle?" Counselor Troi prompted.

"I died," Elle said, suddenly tired. "That's why I'm here."

The three of them exchanged a concerned glance.

"I have an unstable quantum signature," Elle said, pulling herself into 'report' mode. "Originally I'm from the year 2018 in a different universe, and two, almost three, years ago I died of carbon monoxide poisoning in my home and transferred to the 23rd century, your past, during the first five-year mission of the original Enterprise. I know this because you and your crew and this ship are the main subjects of a television show from my home universe. Anyway, I lived there, on the Enterprise, as a civilian mission consultant. On the latest survey mission, Commander Spock let me go on the marine biology sample team once the initial and secondary teams had landed. We were on a boat, and got caught in a whale feeding. Our boat got smashed, and I got tangled in the seaweed. The whale got me the third time it came around for the krill." She clasped her shaking hands. "I was drowning, I was, Spock was twenty feet away... I must've started dying and my quantum signature must've shifted. You can probably check the transporter logs and compare that signature to the one I have now. It will have stabilized and changed to match."

The three of them stared at her in blatant shock.

"I'm telling the truth," Elle said.

Captain Picard looked at the Betazoid counselor.

"I'm sensing no deception, captain," Counselor Troi said softly. "She truly believes what she's saying."

"Because it's _true_ ," Elle said, scrubbing at her face. Salt crunched in her hair and she shuddered.

"I've studied the original Enterprise's mission logs extensively and I've never seen your name," Picard said.

Elle frowned. "My presence was highly classified, so they registered me under civilian mission consultant. I don't think my name went into many of the reports, just my presence."

"Why?"

Elle shifted wearily. "I told you, it's classified. I would need permission from either Star Fleet or my guardians to share the specifics." She took a deep breath and forced herself to think it through. "My ID should be in the Federation database. For specifics, if you can't find someone in Star Fleet with high enough security clearance, I have Vulcan citizenship in the House of Surak. You can contact the Vulcan embassy and get in from there."

Picard nodded slowly. "You've had a long day. Counselor Troi will escort you to guest quarters and I will inform you once we have some sort of confirmation about your identity. Understood?"

Elle nodded. "Understood, sir."

"This way," Troi said softly.

Elle slid of the bed and wobbled on shaky legs. "I'm good," she assured them, standing up. She followed Deanna out of sickbay. "This ship sounds a lot bigger," she commented after an awkward silence. "Different vibrations. Deeper."

"It is bigger than a Constitution-class ship. We're 1,061 crew," Troi said. "Half civilians."

"Nice." Elle silently wondered if they'd gone ahead with civilians on ships because of her or in spite of her experiences. She blanched at the memory of Spock's outstretched hand. "At least they know I'm not really dead," she murmured, her chest aching. "Spock must've seen me disappear right in front of his eyes."

Counselor Troi stopped in front of a door. "Here we are, your quarters for the foreseeable future."

They were a similar layout to her old quarters, if larger, and the color palette was more muted. None of her things were on the shelves. _A blank canvas. Again_. Elle choked down a swell of emotion. "Thank you, Counselor," she said past the lump in her throat. "Are the showers still the same?"

"Voice-controlled, if that's what you mean."

"Sure. And the synthesizers?"

"They're called replicators now."

Elle blinked at the unfamiliar LCARS display in front of the replicator slot in the wall, dumbfounded. "Right. Uh..."

Counselor Troi smiled gently. "Why don't you replicate a robe, hop in the shower, and I'll get you some clothes and leave them in the bedroom for you."

"Okay." Elle poked at the initialize button. "Computer, one plush terrycloth bathrobe, youth size 15 small, dark blue with pale pink pinstripe." Hopefully it still worked like that.

"Acknowledged." The replicator spit out a bathrobe of those specs a moment later.

Elle took the robe and fled into the bathroom. She took off her clothes and tossed them into the refresher and almost fell into the shower cubicle. "Computer, sonic shower, forty percent."

The thing about crying in a sonic shower that's breaking down foreign matter on your body is that it also breaks down tears and vibrates them right off your face. Not a super satisfactory cry-in-the-shower experience but Elle was getting memories of inhaling water and she Did. Not. Want. water over her head at the moment.

She focused on her right leg. There was a six-inch scar across her thigh. "Nice," Elle breathed, poking at it. It still hurt. She stopped poking at it.

She finished showering and shrugged on her bathrobe, identical to her own. Except it had a sterile replicator smell instead of Enterprise laundry smell. It didn't have the grease stain from when Cmdr Stabby had leaked oil, or the ink stain from when she and Uhura had practiced calligraphy.

"No," Elle told her reflection fiercely. "You can cry later. Survival first, then freak out. You know the drill." She closed her eyes and took a few deep breaths, regaining her mental equilibrium as Spock had shown her. "You're freaked out, but you're okay. This is still Star Trek. You're okay. This is the Enterprise. You know these people, they're not going to hurt you. They're here to help." She nodded firmly. "Okay."

There was a pile of clothes sitting at the foot of the bed. Elle pulled on the standard issue underclothes, leggings, the silvery blue tunic, and the thick-soled sneakers. She swept her hair into a ponytail and surveyed herself in the mirror. _Ready_ , she confirmed.

She went into the common area of the quarters. Counselor Troi was waiting for her. "Feel better?" Troi asked.

"Yes ma'am," Elle replied, giving her a game face.

Another odd look. "You know, Elle, you have just been through a frightening experience," Troi said gently. "It's all right to be scared."

Elle shook her head. "I know, but, not now. Survival first. I want to get my situation settled first and then I'll process it." She bit her lip. "Can we go?"

Troi gave her shoulder a sympathetic squeeze and nodded. "Let's go."


	2. Old Faces, New Guardians

They took the long trek to the Conference Room. By the time they got there Elle's leg was aching.

Captain Picard and Commander Riker were waiting for them. Four of the screens in the room were on hold. Two of them were Fleet HQ symbols and two were Vulcan Homeworld symbols. "Whoever answers first gets a prize," Riker said jokingly. "Hello there. I'm Will Riker, first officer. You look a lot better not covered in seaweed."

"Pleasure, commander. Elle Wilcott." She sat down in the offered chair with a sigh of relief.

"We've analysed your quantum signature and compared it to the one registered in the transporter buffer and you're right, it was changing," Picard said.

Elle nodded. "Good, that's good." She glanced at the screens. "You did, uh, tell them my name, right, captain?"

"Yes."

"Okay, good." Elle shifted akwwardly.

One of the Vulcan screens came alive. "This is the Vulcan embassy."

Elle stood up. "Commander S'task?"

The Vulcan's eyebrows went up. "...Elle? Elle Wilcott?"

"You left Star Fleet?" Elle asked, unable to focus on anything other than that.

"I chose diplomacy as my second career," S'task said. "What are you doing in this time period? On the Enterprise? We thought you were-" He stopped, eyed the captain behind Elle, and refocused. "How can I help you?"

"There's no record of me in the system as existing on the Enterprise," Elle said, "and they need confirmation I am who I say I am."

"I see." S'task looked at the captain. "Captain Picard, as you can see, Elle is telling the truth. She was on the Enterprise eighty years ago. She assisted the Intrepid twice during that time." His eyes crinkled in a Vulcan smile. "It is very good to see you alive and well."

"You too," Elle said gratefully.

He glanced away and back. "Ambassador Sarek is in the embassy, if you would like to speak to your Head of House."

Elle nodded. "I would appreciate it, thank you, Commander. Or, Ambassador."

S'task inclined his head. "One moment." The screen went back to circling.

"I can't believe he left Star Fleet," Elle said, rubbing a hand over her face. "Okay, I mean, I can believe it, especially if the Intrepid kept getting into so much trouble, but, wow." She wrapped her arms around herself, suddenly overwhelmed. "Eighty years, though..."

Riker cleared his throat. "He was on the Intrepid?" he asked.

"Yeah. I met him when we rescued the Intrepid from the space amoeba."

The two Vulcan comm screens came alive again and a second later so did the Star Fleet ones. "Elle!" Three voices chorused eagerly.

"Spock! Bones! Ambassador Sarek!" Elle beamed at them, relief making her knees weak. "Oh, I'm so glad this is the same universe."

"So this is where you ended up," McCoy drawled. His eyes narrowed. "Are you all right? Did their doctors look you over?"

"I'm okay," Elle promised. "I have a cool scar but I'm okay."

Spock and Sarek exchanged a glance through the Enterprise's screens. "I assume, Captain Picard, you are calling to confirm Elle's identity and her familiarity with this time and place," Spock said gravely.

"Yes, Ambassador."

Spock nodded. "Consider it confirmed. This is Elle Wilcott, the Enterprise's only long-term civilian consultant. Also, a member of the House of Surak." It was implied from his eyebrow that he would take a personal interest in her wellbeing.

"Speaking of, Elle, some of your stuff is still at my place in Georgia," McCoy said. "I had a feeling you'd pop up again."

Elle smiled. "For real?"

"For real. I'll ship it over to you."

The fourth person, an admiral, spoke up. "Admiral McCoy, please hold off on that."

"Who are you supposed to be?" McCoy asked irritably.

The admiral restrained a sigh. "Admiral Hughes, Star Fleet Command. Also, one of five people in the galaxy who have access to Miss Wilcott's full file." He gave McCoy and Spock a significant look.

"Then you know she's staying right where she is," McCoy retorted.

"Excuse me, Admiral, but I know no such thing. Miss Wilcott is still so classified that considering her circumstances it may be better to bring her back to a secure facility or even HQ."

"I'm not living in Politics Central, we already established this in my time," Elle said. "Do you know how many spies you have in your ranks?"

Everyone stopped and looked at her. "Do you?" Hughes asked.

"At least three, but where there's one there's like, ten," Elle said, thinking it over. "And wouldn't that be even more suspicious, a teenager walking around HQ hobnobbing with Admirals and taking up a ton of subspace priority channel time?"

"A Starbase-" Hughes started.

"Poses the same problem as a planet," Spock said, giving him a Look. "If enemies of the Federation or the Enterprise in particular were to become aware of the nature of her consultancy, she will be safer on a starship which cannot be tracked through a predictable schedule."

"Not to mention I'm more useful here, where things are taking place," Elle added. "With subspace lag I couldn't be of any help in a realtime situation."

Hughes still didn't look convinced.

Elle gestured to the ship. "What can you object to, admiral? Obviously the whole civilians on starships question has been resolved, regardless of my disappearance and the Manraloth's doubts, no problem there." She tilted her chin. "I have proven my worth in the past. And this is the Enterprise, sir. If you've read my file you know I know what I'm talking about."

"How could you possibly know about the Manraloth?" Picard interrupted, giving her a wide-eyed stare.

Elle chewed on her lip. "It was a book," she finally said. "The Buried Age. It's on my shelf at home in another universe."

Picard and Troi, who'd also been there, gaped at her.

Hughes stayed silent, brow furrowed.

Sarek spoke up. "Elle, as always, you are welcome of course to retire to Vulcan with our family. Vulcan is perfectly safe for one of your nature and the House of Surak would, of course, be responsible for your welfare." He raised an eyebrow at Hughes.

Elle smothered a grin. If she went to Vulcan, Star Fleet would never see her or her foreknowledge again.

Hughes relented under the patient glares of three of the most influential people in the Federation. "Fine. She stays on the Enterprise."

"I'll ship your stuff," McCoy assured Elle.

"Excuse me," Picard interrupted, visibly shaken. "Would someone tell me what is going on?"

"We are assigning Eleanor Wilcott to the Enterprise-D as a civilian mission consultant, effective immediately," Hughes said formally. "One of your officers will, of course, need to sign for guardianship of Miss Wilcott until such time as she can become an emancipated minor or comes of age-"

"Absolutely not," Picard said firmly. "We cannot just adopt a minor for the purpose of using her as a Star Fleet asset. There are child labor laws!"

"Which state I can work up to twenty hours a month," Elle pointed out. "As my usefulness is, ah, episodic in nature, I've actually never reached that limit. And, may I point out, Wesley Crusher is only a year older than me and he's driving this tin can?"

"Wesley Crusher is a certified genius, has grown up in Star Fleet in this century, and is a special case. The flagship cannot be advised by a fifteen-year-old," Picard stressed.

"We were," McCoy interjected smugly. "Best years of the mission."

"Indeed," Spock added. "Captain Kirk found Elle's expertise invaluable. She saved many lives, ours included, several times."

Riker spoke up. "Hold up, what do you actually do?"

Elle glanced at Admiral Hughes.

"Only the highest clearance levels and need-to-know," he said. "Senior officers only."

Elle nodded. "So basically..." She gave them a brief rundown of her foreknowledge, aided by Spock and McCoy's testimony, and to a lesser extent, Sarek's.

"We are a television show in another universe which seems to correlate generally to our actual timeline," Picard finally said, summing up. "Of which you are a fan."

"Yes, sir."

"Nice," Riker said, grinning.

Elle looked at Picard. "Captain. This is your ship. Please, read my file, ask Bones and Spock for their honest opinion while I'm out of the room if you want. If you don't want my help, I will go to Vulcan and you can always contact me. But if you do decide to let me stay, I will make the Enterprise and its people my priority."

He frowned. "I will not say I wouldn't want an ace up our sleeve, especially considering what we face on a daily basis, but it's because of what we face on a daily basis that I have major ethical concerns regarding your mental and emotional wellbeing if you consult on these missions, not to mention you've just died for the second time."

Elle swallowed, thinking of Klingons and Romulans and the scar on her ribs. "I can handle it," she said, lifting her chin.

"You shouldn't have to," he said, and behind the stern exterior he was all compassion.

Elle kept his gaze and spoke past the lump in her throat. "Please, captain. Let me help."

He looked at her for a good thirty seconds and then nodded. "I will speak to Ambassador Spock and Doctor McCoy. Would you like a tour of the ship while you wait?" he asked.

The tension broken, Elle nodded. "I'd love one. I'm going to need to play catch-up. Again." She tried not to notice McCoy and Spock's twin winces from the screens.

"Commander Data to the conference room," Picard said, tapping his commbadge.

The android walked in a few moments later. "Captain." He blinked golden eyes in Elle's direction, curious.

"Mr. Data, this is Elle Wilcott. She is a guest," Picard temporized, "and if you could give her a tour of the ship while we discuss something."

"Yes, captain." He gestured to the door. "This way, please."

Elle glanced back at Spock and followed Data.

-/\\-

The Enterprise-D was easily twice as big as the original Enterprise and three times as confusing. Elle resolved to memorize ship's schematics as soon as possible. If she got to stay. If not... better start brushing up on her Vulkhansu.

"Elle?"

She looked up at Data. "Huh? Oh, sorry." She got into the turbolift. "Where are we going next?"

"Would you like to see the Arboretum?" he asked.

"That'd be cool."

"Deck 7." The turbolift started.

"Picard to Data."

Elle tensed.

Data tapped his commbadge. "Data here, captain."

"Please escort Miss Wilcott to the conference room," Picard said crisply.

"Aye sir. On our way." Data tapped the comm channel closed and then rerouted the lift.

Elle bounced on her toes anxiously. This was the moment. She forced herself to flank Data's left side rather than run ahead of him to the Conference Room.

The door hissed open and Elle surveyed everyone's faces. McCoy and Spock, still on the screens, looked smug. Sarek had signed off. Admiral Hughes, Counselor Troi, and Picard looked neutral. And Riker looked straight-up amused.

"Yes?" Elle asked, starting to smile. "I can stay?"

"How do you know?" Picard questioned, still in epic poker face.

"Because your first officer always looks like that when something discomfits you, so... you've decided to keep me." Also Spock is totally smirking and he gave it away.

Picard glared at his First.

Riker grinned back, unrepentant. "I like her."

Admiral Hughes huffed. "Well, that's done. Your new ID papers and updated information will be sent soon. Admiral. Ambassador. Captain. Miss Wilcott." His screen went blank.

Elle looked at the last two links to her life. "Spock," she said, realizing they were going to have to get off the comm. "You saw me, right? You knew I wasn't dead, right?"

Spock inclined his head, his eyes warm. "I knew, Elle. I saw you disappear. Do not worry about us. We are just glad to have you back, in any capacity."

"Me too," Elle whispered.

"Mene sakkhet ur-seveh, Elle-kam," Spock said gently.

She gave him a tremulous smile. "Sochya eh dif, a'nirih."

"Keep in touch," McCoy added, giving her a smile. He looked over at Picard, his gaze suddenly frosty. "And if anything happens to her under your care, captain, I will remind you I know how to make people die horribly slowly without evidence and I have immunity on seventy different planets."

"Indeed," Spock chimed in, giving them a stern eyebrow.

They signed off at the same time. Elle stifled a twitch as all attention went to her.

Picard held out a hand. "Welcome to the Enterprise, Miss Wilcott."

"Thank you, captain." She shook his hand firmly. It was official.

Counselor Troi sensed her burgeoning tear-fest and said, "It's been quite a long day for you, Elle. I can take you back to your quarters if you like?"

Elle nodded. "Thank you, counselor."

"Good night," Riker offered sympathetically. "If you need anything, let me know."

Elle gave him a small smile and fled behind Troi. She took a couple of deep breaths, stemming the crushing wave in her chest. Three more decks, three more decks...

Troi put a gentle hand on her shoulder and steered her into her quarters. "Do you want me to stay for a while?" she asked kindly.

The all-call interrupted. "Senior officers to the Briefing Room."

"I'll be okay," Elle told her.

"All right. I'll call for you in the morning? I can show you the mess hall."

"Thank you." Elle stepped in then stepped out again. "Out of curiosity, who signed for me?"

"Commander Riker, actually, as both guardian and liaison."

Elle snorted. "Nice." She entered her quarters. "See you tomorrow, Counselor."

"Good night, Elle." The door slid closed with a quiet 'shhk'.

Elle methodically replicated some flannel pajamas, a box of tissues, hot cocoa and snickerdoodles, and curled up on her bed. Now that she was ready for the Great Cry, it wasn't happening. "Computer, what's the stardate?"

"43124.1."

"How many years are we into the five-year mission."

"This is the beginning of the third year of the Enterprise's mission."

"So this must be Season 3," Elle realized, and munched another cookie. "Eighty years... I literally pulled a Captain America." Her chest hurt. She couldn't tell if it was from her emotional constipation or the after-effects of having drowned only a few hours ago.

A tear splished into her hot cocoa. Welp, there it was.

Elle cried herself out and stared at the ceiling for a while, cataloguing the episodes she remembered from Season 3. Then she cried some more and fell asleep.


End file.
